


your love will be safe with me

by outruntheavalanche



Series: all our bits and precious bobs [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Community: tfa_kink, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 13:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5744794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outruntheavalanche/pseuds/outruntheavalanche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Dameron!  <b>Move</b>!”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	your love will be safe with me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://nullrefer.com/?http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/1841.html?thread=2263089#cmt2263089) at [](http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**tfa_kink**](http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/): **Poe would gladly take a blaster to the chest for General Leia.**
> 
> **He doesn't know what to do when she takes one for him.**
> 
> Title from "re: Stacks," by Bon Iver.

“Dameron! _Move_!”

Poe only has a split second to react and then he’s turning toward the voice, a flurry of movement catching in his peripheral vision. A blaster bolt hums through the air, bright blue and deadly as any Jedi ’saber blade.

General Organa lifts a hand as if she’s going to reach out and touch his face. Her mouth twitches in a tiny smile and she staggers a few steps forward, her pale robes dragging on the muddy ground.

Poe drops his eyes from her face—gone as white as a sheet of unmarked paper—to the smoking hole in her chest.

“No, no, no, General.” He moves toward her, hands outstretched, and if he could just get to her fast enough, if he could get her to a hovergurney, he could—he could—

General Organa grasps onto his arm and her knees crumple and Poe goes down with her, trying to cradle her body against his chest to ease her fall. The mud is cold and damp, soaks through the knees of his trousers, and it stains the bottom of the General’s robes soot-black.

“General, please, Leia,” he says again, pushing his own desperation to the back of his mind, pulling her into his lap.

She looks up at him, her brown eyes—so like his own mother’s—wide and scared. She’s trembling against his chest.

Poe is aware, distantly, that the world around them has descended into chaos. He hears the clipping of booted feet on pavement as Resistance pilots and footsoldiers spread in all directions. Klaxons start screaming, polluting the air with their cries. He feels so far away from all of it.

The General just lifts her hand and touches Poe’s cheek and she smiles at him. The noise fades even further into the background until it’s nothing but static. Her hand has already lost some of its warmth.

Poe wants to apologize, wants to tell her “it should have been me” because it _should have been him_ , he’s spent most of his adult life preparing for the moment he would have to lay down his life to protect a woman who had become so much like a second mother to him.

She just shakes her head, touches his cheek again, and then her arm drops limply across her ruined chest.

Poe sits there in the mud with the General cradled against his chest. Rain falls gently around them, pattering against the foliage, and Poe lifts his head to the sky. He lets the rain run down his face like tears.

He stays there, rocking her in his arms for a very long time, until he’s shivering so hard his teeth rattle in his head like coins in a tin cup and his skin shrivels like old parchment.

Until Major Ematt and Admiral Ackbar come for her. Poe’s reluctant to let her go, but they’ve known her even longer than he has. They both knew her when she was just Leia Organa, a rebel princess, and not the woman steeped in legends and myth that they came to refer to only as the General. They will be nothing but kind to General Organa.

Poe just sits back and watches in silence as Ackbar drapes a shroud over her and tucks it in like he’s tucking a loved one into their bed. Poe’s heart throbs painfully in his chest and his eyes sting with unshed tears he wills not to fall.

Something metallic scrapes on the ground and Poe looks up. C-3P0 marches over to them and turns to address him.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of informing Master Luke and Miss Rey of today’s positively dreadful events, Commander Dameron,” the droid says. “They will be arriving first thing tomorrow morning.”

Poe just nods, dismissing the droid with the wave of a hand. He takes one last look at her—princess, rebel, general, mother, friend—and draws in a deep breath, touches his fingertips to his mouth and then runs them across her shrouded forehead.

“We should get her inside,” Poe says, looking up at Ematt and Ackbar. They both look back at him, wet-eyed and mournful, and Poe feels his resolve crumble for just a moment. 

He takes another deep breath and pushes himself to his feet.

The three of them carefully heft General Organa’s body and carry her in out of the rain.


End file.
